Straziante come un testamento.
Alone
This is the end of every song that we singThe fire burned out to ash, and the stars grown dim with tearsCold and afraid, the ghosts of all that we've beenWe toast with bitter dregs, to our emptiness
And the birds falling out of our skiesAnd the words falling out of our mindsAnd here is to love, to all the loveFalling out of our livesHopes and dreams are goneThe end of every song
And it all stopsWe were always sure that we would never changeAnd it all stopsWe were always sure that we would stay the sameBut it all stopsAnd we close our eyes to sleepTo dream a boy and girlWho dream the world is nothing but a dream
Where did it go?Where did it go?Broken voiced lament to call us homeThis is the end of every song we singWhere did it go?Where did it go?Where did it go?Where did it go?Broken voiced lament to call us homeThis is the end of every song we sing, alone
Il brano è ispirato alla poesia "Dregs" di Ernest Cristopher Dowson.
Dregs
The fire is out, and spent the warmth thereof,
(This is the end of every song man sings!)
The golden wine is drunk, the dregs remain,
Bitter as wormwood and as salt as pain;
And health and hope have gone the way of love
Into the drear oblivion of lost things.
Ghosts go along with us until the end;
This was a mistress, this, perhaps, a friend.
With pale, indifferent eyes, we sit and wait
For the dropped curtain and the closing gate:
This is the end of all the songs man sings.
(This is the end of every song man sings!)
The golden wine is drunk, the dregs remain,
Bitter as wormwood and as salt as pain;
And health and hope have gone the way of love
Into the drear oblivion of lost things.
Ghosts go along with us until the end;
This was a mistress, this, perhaps, a friend.
With pale, indifferent eyes, we sit and wait
For the dropped curtain and the closing gate:
This is the end of all the songs man sings.
(Ernest Cristopher Dowson, 1902)
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